


The Oddities Of Life

by LonelyWhovian



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Poetry, Flash Fic, I'm Bad At Tagging, Poetry, Short Stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:55:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23164354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyWhovian/pseuds/LonelyWhovian
Summary: This is a book of flash fiction and bad poetry. Most of this stuff was written for English assignments and stuff.You can read it if you want.But I will warn you, there's lots of stuff about suicide and death and stuff.
Kudos: 1





	1. Winter

Winter had begun. It was deeper and colder than anyone had ever seen before. My family and I were huddled together in front of our small wood fire. I knew it wouldn't be long before our wood run out and we would be left to slowly freeze to death. The land of Terrahimestas was not prepared for such cold. The kingdom was one of summer and plenty. The ice that covered every surface was something that few people had ever seen before. Frost covered our windows and was creeping down the walls and across the floor towards us. I moved closer to the fire, but the cold behind us sucked all the warmth from the air. My lungs burned with each breath. My fingers were blue, but I didn't have the strength to warm them.

The fire was dying. I looked behind me and saw our small pile of wood. The frost had reached it. Each piece was covered in a thin layer of white. I sighed. Today was the end. I looked into my brother's eyes. He knew it too. I refused to die like this. I was only thirteen. I had things to do with my life. I needed to accomplish something before it was too late. I tried to stand, but my father's hand was firm on my shoulder. I looked at him and saw his glassy eyes and his vacant expression. I let out a sob. My father was gone. A tear escaped my eye and froze on my cheek. I tried to move away from his corpse and his hand fell away. I took a deep breath, the blanket that covered him did nothing to save him. I reached out and pulled it off his shoulders. With my brother's help, we pulled it over ourselves and huddled closer together.

I wrapped my arms around my brother. It did nothing to warm me. I felt his chest move up and down, each time getting slower until it stopped. I pulled him closer.

"Thom, please. Don't be gone." My voice was almost silent. Even those few words had left me out of breath. I was alone now. I couldn't stop the sobs this time. I cried until I had no tears left. I looked at my family lying on the ground, their eyes seeing nothing. I stared at the glowing embers in the fire. They were dying, just like me. Everyone was gone. I had nothing left. I closed my eyes and smiled. I pushed the blankets off my shoulders and let out my final breath. I would be with my family now.


	2. Her End

"The view from my window was not a happy one. It was filled with rubble and ruin. A few bones here and there, each with a few rags attached. It wasn't always like that. Once it was filled with trees and buildings, and little children running through it. I think it was called a school. Not that you would learn anything if you went there. The humans of old were awful and wasteful. No matter how smart you were, you were allowed to roam the world, committing crimes and taking up valuable space. Those problems were gone now. Intelligence was everything inside The Dome. It had to be. The old humans didn't care about it and look what it did to them. Nuclear war had wiped out almost everyone. My family was one of the lucky ones. I was descended from Einstein himself, so my family was guaranteed a place in The Dome. I had passed my first exam the other day. My brother had not. He was dead now. A good thing too. He was a waste of resources. I wasn't sad. His sacrifice meant that others who would provide more to society had the ability to do so.

A wind picked up outside. A piece of fabric came loose from a bone and was whipped through the air. I had always wanted to leave The Dome and feel the wind, but that was stupid. The nuclear war had left the entire planet uninhabitable. Only we few in The Dome had survived. I had seen pictures of times before. There were so many wasted resources. Some had so much, others so little. Here everyone was equal. We were ruled by a council made up of a representative from each family. There were seventy-three. I was part of the twentieth family. I was Three in my family. I liked my number. Three Twenty sounded important. I used to be Four Twenty, then I inherited my elder brothers number when he was executed.

I looked around my dormitory. I shared my bunk with Two Two. Her father hadn't passed the yearly exam, so she got his number. The rest of the children were all studying hard for the next exam. I knew I would pass. I was the top of my class. I received no privileges for this accomplishment. My reward was that I was still alive. I looked at the newly empty bunks across the room. Five Seventy and Three Forty-Two didn't pass. That was a relief. They always thought they were special. Their parents were in the top five rankings for this year's exam. Intelligence isn't genetic. That's an easy thing to figure out.

Some kids were sad when their family members failed. They were the weak ones. The system was designed to weed them out. It never failed. My parents weren't weak. Their siblings were. Most people that last are only children. Threes and Twos.

A flicker of movement distracted me from my thoughts. It looked as though it had come from outside of the Dome. I leaned against the window, but my breath fogged up the glass. I pushed it open instead and leaned as far out as I could. There was someone outside. They were wearing a hazmat suit, allowing them to survive. They seemed to be holding a sort of chisel. What they were doing was unclear to me until it was too late. I let out a yell as the dome shattered.

The slight vacuum that my entire life had been spent inside of dissipated, as did the breathable air. The last thing I saw was a skull in the sand before I lost consciousness and fell out of my window.

The impact on my skull killed me instantly. I didn't even feel it. One second I was in my third-floor dormitory, the next I was here, talking to you." The sta=range creature in front of me nodded. He had goat legs, a human torso and head, and huge bat wings protruding from his back. His face was cast in shadow by the horns protruding from his forehead.

"Well, Three Twenty," his voice was deep and rough like he was a smoker of the old days. "This is your new home. Forever. This is Hell."


	3. The Egg

I had had the egg for as long as I could remember. It had never hatched, never tremored, never done anything other than sit near the fire, wrapped in blankets. The pearly white surface always remained free of cracks. I had given up on it long ago, but my parents refused to get rid of it. They said it contained my heritage, whatever that meant. I stared into the fire blazing beside it, trying to figure out what my parents meant. It had been three years since they said that, and I was no closer to understanding them. I sighed and turned away from the fire, curling up under my thin blanket. I pushed all thoughts aside and tried to get to sleep.

I was awoken by a faint scratching sound. I cursed our lack of cat. Rodents ran as freely around here as I did, if not more so. I lit a candle and grabbed my knife. The scratching was coming from the fireplace. The embers emitted a soft glow as I crept closer, being careful to avoid the creaky floorboards. I crouched down and placed my candle on the floor. I lightly knocked on the wall to scare the rat, but the scratching continued. I knocked slightly harder and the scratching stopped. It was then replaced by a knocking almost exactly like mine. I let out a small yelp and fell back. I knocked on the wall again, and again something knocked back, though it sounded like it was coming from in front of the wall. I looked down and saw the egg. Except its flawless surface was no longer flawless. A web of cracks was making its way around the egg, growing larger every second. I watched it, fascinated. I reached out and gently poked the surface. It gave away, just a little.

I sat there in silence for a while longer, until a tiny black claw poked through. Then another. They retracted and were replaced by a small, scaly snout. A wisp of smoke emerged from its nostril. I was paralysed with a mix of fear and fascination. It pushed it's entire head through and I was astounded by the beauty. Its scales were as white and iridescent as the egg it came from. The small eyes burned red beneath horned brows. It chirped. I slowly reached out a hand. My fear was gone, replaced by awe and a sense of belonging. It sniffed my fingertips and brushed them lightly with its snout.

"Hello, little one," I said quietly. It chirped again. A while later, and with much struggle, the small creature was free of its shell. It was beautiful and elegant. Its body and tail were about the length of my arm, every inch covered in white scales that slowly changed into blue underneath it. It had a delicate row of spikes along its back, running all the way down its tail. Sprouting just behind its front legs were two wings. When they were extended I could see little blue veins in the membrane.

I looked around my room. Pieces of eggshell covered the floor. I made a quick decision and grabbed the biggest pieces I could and got to work. A few minutes later the blankets once again appeared to be wrapped around an egg, and all the pieces were gone. I stared at the creature in front of me and wondered what to do. I was planning to keep him away from my parents for as long as possible. I moved towards it and gently picked it up the way you would a cat. It immediately snuggled into my arms. I smiled. It was quite warm, warmer than I expected anyway. I crept back to my bed and curled up with it in my arms.

What to do with it was a problem for another day. Tonight I was happy just to sleep.


	4. Suspension Of Belief

Isolation. It's not something you really get used to. I had lived alone for hundreds of years, and I still missed the company of others. When I was exiled, I assumed I would get over it. When I was younger, I enjoyed being alone. I would rather be curled up with a book in the library than playing outside with the other kids. Obviously, that sort of behaviour was frowned upon, so people started to make up rumours. The problem with rumours is that where I came from if enough people believed them they often came true. That kind of thing was often taken advantage of. I knew someone who convinced everyone he was a millionaire, he moved out of the town less than a month later. He was one of the richest people in the world.  
I don't know who it was, but someone decided to tell everyone that I was a vampire. People were gullible, easy to fool. Before long sunlight started to burn my skin, I was awake only during the night, and regular food stopped satisfying me. My mother was the first to notice. She was disappointed in the town but knew that there was nothing to be done. She took me to the king, and he banished me. I was sad, but the king was kind, and he let me take the entire library with me. Nobody else used it anyway. I was given a small house a few hundred miles away from the town. Nobody was allowed to visit me, so I saw nobody. I grew up with only books for company. I went on so many adventures, all over the universe without leaving my house.  
Being immortal meant that I had no reason to eat or really do anything. I was unable to leave the property. I could only go to the crumbling wall that surrounded the desolate building, otherwise, my banishment would be jeopardised and I would die. I had no way of knowing what the outside world was like. I didn't age, so I still looked twelve, not particularly fun, as I was pretty short. I could fly though, and turn into a bat, so there were some upsides. I would burn myself in the sun within seconds. Learnt that one the hard way.  
I may be immortal, but I don't have the memory of one. I had a few diaries to remind me what my past was like, but I never recorded the books that I read. This meant that every few years, after I had finished reading everything, I could just start again. The books were read so many times that the pages had begun to fall out. It made me sad to see my only escape fall apart. When some became unreadable, I stopped reading and slept. It could've been an hour, it could've been thousands of years. All I know is that when I woke up the world was a very different place.  
My house was no longer alone. It was surrounded by others ten times as grand. I had never seen buildings as incredible as these. I heard laughter outside my window, a sound I hadn't heard in such a long time. I looked out of it, careful to avoid the sun, and saw a group of brightly dressed children running after one another. Their faces were plastered with an expression of pure joy. One of them tapped another on the back.  
"Tag! You're It!" Their shriek of joy was unbelievably loud. The other child's shoulders slumped and she scrunched up her face as if she was about to cry. The child that tapped her went over to look, as did all the others. I saw a mischievous spark light her eye. I had an idea about what she was planning. The moment someone stepped within arms reach she stood up straight and ran after them, tackling the poor child to the ground. I laughed to myself. They looked like they were having a lot more fun than I used to. I considered asking to join them. Then I remembered that I was a vampire and that I would die. I cursed the townspeople, as I often did. They took my life away from me and suffered no consequences. My life was so boring now. I sighed, if I could go outside, all my problems would be solved.

When night fell I stepped outside. I took a deep breath of the cool air and nearly choked. It was horrible. Filled with smog and pollution. I regained my composure and looked up at the sky. I was hoping to see some stars, but there were none. Suddenly, out of the blue, an idea struck me. If belief turned me into a vampire, then could the reverse be true? What did I have to lose?  
The next month was spent trying to convince myself that I wasn't a vampire. By the end of it, I had lost my night vision, I needed to sleep every night, and I could no longer turn into a bat. I smiled to myself as I stepped out of my house. The sun was streaming down, I hadn't felt the warmth of it on my face in so many years. The last the surrounding people saw of me was my skin turning black, my bones to dust, and my body crumbling to a pile of ashes, only my fangs remained, bright white against the grey of my ashes.


	5. Running

The worst part of my life was constantly moving house. We did it so often I hadn't felt truly at home in years. I didn't blame my parents. They were young when they made their mistake. It had cost the life of my father, and the safety of myself and my mother was guaranteed to never be. We owned so few things that moving was just hitchhiking for a few hours with small backpacks. We never had any idea where we going. If we did They probably would too. After we arrived in some distant town, we would camp in the outskirts till Mother found us a place to stay. Sometimes she couldn't. On those occasions, we moved on. I hadn't been to a school, or had friends, in over six years. My mother and I were extremely close. She was my best, and only, friend. Almost constantly wished for a normal life, but Mother made it all seem like a grand adventure. The only thing she would never tell me was what we were running from. Whenever I asked she would sigh and pull me close.  
"When your father and I were young," she would say, "we made some bad decisions. Those decisions led us here." She never said more, no matter how much I pestered her. I always went to sleep dreaming of great hounds trying to attack us, then Mother would stand, a sword in hand, and defeat them. Except, when we were awake, Mother was finding harder and harder to stand, to walk, even to breath. I knew she would only get worse if we couldn't get her to a hospital. She refused, saying that they would find us, but her breathing was so shallow, so laboured, that she gave in. Luckily, the town we were staying in had one.  
The walk to the hospital wasn't a long one, but Mother was unable to walk there without leaning heavily on me. We were both out of breath when we arrived outside of the large, white building. The clean glass doors opened to greet us. We walked in slowly. I hadn't been in such a nice building in so long. The smell of disinfectants stung my nose. We made our way to the front desk.  
"Hello?" The woman sitting there looked down at us. "Could you help us, please? My mother is very sick." A flicker of pitty danced across her face. I hated it when people did that. She typed some stuff into her computer and nodded.  
"Come with me."  
She led us through a maze of hallways to a waiting room filled with coughing people. I helped my mother into a chair and sat down beside her. A man in a long white coat came over to us.  
"Names?" He looked bored.  
"Umm, Natalie and Joan Smith."  
"Ailment?" At his question my mother began to cough, splutter, and wheeze. That seemed to answer his question. "Okay, come with me," he said to my mother. I got up to follow, but he told me to stay. I looked up at my mother and saw her nod, then she said, in a voice barely above a whisper,  
"Run." I stared at her in disbelief. "They will come. You need to run." There were tears running down her face, soon I had them running down mine. I nodded and waited till she had turned the corner, then I got up and sprinted away. I didn't stop until I reached the camp, then I packed everything away, this time into one bag, slung it over my back, and kept on running.

I hadn't stopped running in a long time. My mother was dead. I was sure of that. I had long since run out of tears. I would keep on running until I could fight. Then I would get my revenge on the ones that killed my mother. It was this thought that kept me going. Nothing could stop me. I was invincible.


	6. The Stars Above

Every night, as long as the weather wasn't too terrible, I set up my telescope and gazed at the stars. I could stand for hours without moving. The beauty of space was unimaginable. Galaxies and planets filled my every thought. Each day was torture until the sun set and I could return to my telescope. The stars took me away from my life on Earth. They whisked me into worlds of imagination and fantasy. Each morning, when the stars began to fade and the sun began to rise I was brought crashing down, back to my horrible reality. I would pack up my telescope and slowly walk back to my apartment.

The six of us who lived there hated each other. None of us had anything in common, only three of us actually paid rent or had jobs, and I was the only one who had graduated high school. Every second in that place was a living hell, but I couldn't afford to escape it. I was working eight hours a day on minimum wage, and I only got an hour or so of sleep every day. I got a bit of money from selling my pictures on the street in the weekend, but most of them went for only a tiny bit more than it cost to print and frame them. Still, I would do anything to get out of the apartment.

I climbed in through my small window, being careful to land gently on the floor. I made sure my alarm was set then I crashed into my small bed and fell asleep instantly. I wasn't out long enough to dream. I never was, but I was thankful for that. My past meant that the majority of my dreams would probably be nightmares. Not that anyone would know. I kept a very secure lock on all memories of my early life. They wouldn't help me in my current life, so why bother bringing back all that pain. Some would say that it would be good to come to terms with my past. Some would also say that the Earth is flat. I knew better than to trust the words of others. Even if I did want to open up, there was nobody to talk to. I had no friends and no family. I was fine with that. If there ever was anyone, I would probably end up pushing them away. That's what I always did. Why trust others? All they do is betray you.

The familiar screech of my alarm drew me from my slumber. I whacked the snooze button and sighed. Another day of torture awaited. I got up slowly, and slung my telescope over my back, making sure not to wake any of the apartments inhabitants. Every night they got high or drunk. Every day was spent sleeping it off. It was such a pointless existence. Not that mine was much better, You could say I helped people, but when you work in retail, nobody cares what you do. People walk all over you just because you have the shop's name written on your shirt. The older the person, the ruder they are. That's how it works. Baby Boomers making sure that everyone knows that everything is about them. It's a shame really. You'd think ruining the planet and the economy for hundreds of years to come would make you think before you acted, but no. If there is a flaw they will find it and not stop talking about it for at least twenty minutes. As if having to wait for the stars to come out wasn't enough, all that time had to be spent enduring verbal and emotional abuse. It could be worse. I could be unemployed. I was lucky to work for eight hours a day, fifteen dollars and fifty cents an hour, before tax. It kept me alive and my telescope working. What more could I ask for? Maybe a place to stay that didn't smell like weed, tabaco, and alcohol. Was that too much to ask? Most with power would say yes.

Sorry, sorry. I'm getting off-topic. I'll get back to the story now.  
I slowly crept around the apartment, avoiding all the creaking floorboards and the various people passed out on the floor. I made my way to the kitchen and opened my food-safe. I didn't trust anyone here enough to leave my food out. I unlocked it and winced as it beeped to tell me that my code was correct. Inside was a few cans of tuna, some pre-packaged sandwiches, small containers of cereal, and milk cartons. I grabbed some cereal and a milk carton and continued out of the apartment. The musty hallway was so clean compared to my apartment that I took a huge breath of air before going on my way. I walked past the broken lift and down the fire escape, jumping over the creaky stairs. The closer I got to the ground floor, the cleaner the air became. I jumped over the last four stairs, landing hard on the floor. My telescope threatened to slip off my shoulder. I walked out of the apartment building and down the street. My car was sitting exactly where I left it. I checked for broken locks or windows. Upon finding nothing, I unlocked it and got inside. The familiarity and comfort of my old Toyota made me smile. I relaxed for the first time all day. It took me a few tries to start it up, but I was soon on the road and heading towards work.

The day was so long and so dull, I wasn't even sure if I had the energy to go stargazing that night. I gave myself a mental slap in the face. I always had the energy for the stars. They wouldn't be there forever. And I wouldn't be here forever. As I set up my telescope in a random field, I noticed something strange. There was a comet in the sky, but it was bigger than any I had seen before. I hastily looked through my telescope. It was in more detail than everything I had ever seen. It looked like it was getting bigger. Soon it took up the entire lens. I took my eye off the telescope and stared into the sky. It was clear where the meteor was going to land, and it wasn't good news for me. The meteor crashed into the field I was standing in, killing myself and half of the planet with it. Humans had nothing left. All of the major countries were wiped out. Economies collapsed, and the few people that remained turned on each other. The last few years of the human race was spent in a long, bloody war. No-one even knew what it was over.

Then humans ended. Nature helped rebuild the planet, and soon it was if Homo Sapiens had never even existed.


	7. Remember

I looked at the clothes hanging in my wardrobe. Among my shirts and jackets were bits and pieces of my uniform. That was from a time I would rather forget, but everyone insists that we must remember. Remember the fallen, remember the brave, remember the mistakes we made, and try our very best not to repeat them. I only remember the screams of my comrades, the sounds of explosions, and my life flashing before my eyes as it would before death so many times. I remember having to shoot my friend because he couldn't stand killing for those that couldn't be bothered doing it themselves. The politicians commanded us, but they didn't care about us. To them, we were guns that would get them the land that had been taken. We weren't people, we were tools. I remember the fear in my enemy's eyes as I was forced to kill them. I remember them mirroring my own. There was no honour in war. No honour in murder.

Those of us that survived were never the same. I wanted to be a writer when I was young, but when I returned every night was filled with screams. I couldn't concentrate. My dream was lost with the thousands of people that had been slain. So many lives had been ruined by the politicians that didn't even fight. I hated everything about my past, about the war, about life. The last thing I wanted to do was remember it.


	8. The Field of Flames

The torches lit up the night sky brighter than any stars. It was an incredible sight. Every year, the inhabitants of our village came together to plant the Field of Flames. Each family brought a collection of torches and hammered them into the ground of our farmlands. Then the torches were lit and we gave gifts of food and livestock to the harvest god that looked over our fields. The cries of the animals used to scare me, but now I help in spreading their blood over the soil. We used to use human sacrifices, but there were no other villages for thousands of miles. We had wiped them all out decades ago. The tales that were told to the children of the village were filled with war and victory. Slaughter and laughter. We were feared all throughout the land.

As the final torches were lit and the drummers began their song, I made my way over to the altar. The steady drumbeat matched the pulse of my heart and the pace of my step. I held my head high and people cowered in fear before me. I may have only been twelve, but I had the power to have any one of these people put to death. I was going to be a high priest when I came of age. They were the most powerful people in the village. The closer I came to the altar, the faster the beat of the drums. The High Priests were waiting for me. One held the ceremonial sacrificial knife. He took my hand and cut a slit down the palm. Three drops of my blood hit the soil before I was given the knife.

The villagers stood before the altar. Two of them came up, holding a large pig. They set it down on the granite and held it there as I slowly sit its throat. Its squeals filled the night air. I saw several people flinch. The pig's blood flowed down the carefully cut channels in the altar and down into the soil. It was quickly soaked up. The pig's cries of pain soon died down. As they did, the life left its eyes. The carcass was put over a large pile of sticks that were to be lit later. I gave the knife back to the High Priest, and the process started again, this time with one of the others training to be a priest.

The sacrifices continued until the entire field was soaked in animal blood. The ceremony did not stop there, though. There was one sacrifice left. A man. He had murdered his child and wife, burning their bodies on sacred ground. He had broken two of our most sacred laws, because of that, he had to be punished.

"This year we have a special gift for the gods." The High Priest's voice was low and level. His words were met with cheers. He looked down at me. "This is your moment," he whispered. I was shocked. I was going to be the one to kill the man. This was the highest honour. I smiled at him and he nodded. The man was brought forth, screaming and kicking. He was held down on the altar as his wrists were tied down. The fear in his eyes was beautiful. I couldn't wait to drain the life out of them.

The drums were so fast now it was an almost constant hum. I raised the knife and brought in down on his throat. The blood ran down his neck and onto the field. The last sound he made was a scream so loud and so angry I had to cover my ears. A black cloud erupted from his mouth, funnelling up towards the sky. It stopped for a moment then pointed straight towards me. It dove down towards me. I opened my mouth to scream, and that's exactly what it wanted. I was engulfed inside and out by this cloud. I felt it tearing me apart, limb from limb until I could feel nothing more.

I was dead. I knew that for sure. But I was not out of my misery.


	9. The Rain

The air was filled with a strange, metallic smell. The kind that tells you when a storm is about to start. Only this was so much stronger. It was toxic. People were dropping to the ground with uncontrollable headaches, each of them crying out in pain. Some, the weaker of our community, dropped dead. I was lucky. World War Two was my obsession, and I have several gas masks in perfect working condition. The smell penetrated walls and windows, entering peoples houses and workplaces. There were so many that were killed by this alone. Unfortunately, it was only the beginning.

A few days after it began, the rain started to fall. Each drop was the size of a golfball. They left dents in cars. It kept on raining, getting harder and harder until it was just a lethal sheet of water hitting the ground. The pavements began to crack, the houses were destroyed. I cowered in my basement. Alone. My family was dead. They had believed it was safe to go outside, but they were weak, and they died in minutes. I watched it happen.

Then the true storm began. Thunder and lightning deafened people, struck their houses, and killed so many more. I was still alive, hearing nothing but the constant growl of thunder. I could survive in my basement for months. I had been prepared for the worst ever since I could remember. People said I was crazy, but look who's laughing now.

Then it stopped. Everything. The rain, the lightning, the thunder. The world was born anew. I emerged from my basement into a beautiful new world. Everything had been swept away, leaving a blank canvas for the rebuilding of civilisation. I was told by those that did it that there were only a few hundred humans left on the world. We were going to make the world better than ever. We were the strongest humans that had ever lived. We were the Future Kind.


	10. The Railroad

There was an old railroad that passed by my house. It was rotting away and covered in mos. No-one could remember a time when it was in use, and nobody knew where it went. The local legend was that it was haunted. Some train had gone off the tracks, killing all the passengers. They supposedly haunted the tracks, killing anyone who came to close. Occasionally, kids were dared to walk along the rails until they stopped. Not all of them came back. But our town was surrounded by sinkholes and avalanches, so that proved nothing.

Everyone I knew believed that the tracks were haunted, and nothing I said could ever change their minds. Almost everyone was sure that they had seen something there. When it got to a point where I was the one being called crazy, I decided to prove them all wrong. I got my friends together and told them what I was going to do. None of them were going to let me go, but as soon as I stepped onto the first sleeper, they backed away. I laughed at them and began walking down the rails.

I knew that they went on for a few kilometres before becoming so deteriorated that they were indistinguishable from the forest ground. I walked for around an hour, passing a few sinkholes and some unstable mountains. Unsurprisingly, I came across no spirits or ghosts, only a few dead rats. I finally reached the end and turned to go back. I heard a rumble from above me. It was the familiar sound of an avalanche. I began to sprint back down the tracks but I lost my footing and fell into a sinkhole. I was winded and it felt like I'd cracked a few ribs. I tried to cry out for help, but I couldn't get any air into my lungs.

A shadow appeared at the rim of the sinkhole. It was the avalanche. I cried out at the first stones began to fall. Within seconds I was completely buried. I suffocated a few minutes later but felt no pain. There was a strange sensation filling my body. It was a peculiar lightness, like I was floating. I rose up through the rocks and up to the surface. I looked around and saw hundreds of people standing around. They were all dressed like they were from the 1920s. I also saw all the children that had gone missing over the years. I was dead. There was no questioning it. But I knew that I would never be at rest.


	11. The White House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A poem I wrote for English that seemed half decent-ish.

Down the drive  
Right  
Down

And come to the white house  
At the back  
With a grey roof

There are potted plants outside  
The front door  
And two cats

The door sticks  
The grey paint cracking  
The doorbell broken

The silver door handles  
At a dangerous height  
Often walked into

The wall of chalk  
Colourful and bright  
Unlike the rest of the house

There is jazz playing  
On the tv  
As usual

The wonky painting  
Of a train  
And conductor

More music  
Coming from the last room  
At the end of the hallway

Piano  
Coming from another  
With a matching white door

You are sitting on the   
Blue bedspread  
Concentrating

A retro games controller  
Plugged into an old TV  
Older than you

The bright colours flash  
Lighting up your face  
And the white walls

You won’t look up  
There is nothing  
Outside the game


	12. An Ode To Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another poem for English. I don't actually like poems.

Oh, the magic of muggles!  
You take me away  
From life and its problems  
You’re always with me  
Playing in the back of my mind  
But I will put on my headphones  
And smile

All the time  
You comfort me  
In times of sorrow  
When it all becomes too much  
You remind me  
There is more to listen to  
Beautiful  
That’s what you are  
Without you, I am nothing

Listening to you  
Is stepping into another world  
Better  
Louder  
Melodic  
You take me from the dark places  
You brought me back from the brink

When I’m having a bad day  
Or if I’m feeling  
Lonely  
My music becomes an outlet  
To stop feeling so bad

It brings a smile to my face  
As I put my headphones on  
Start to listen  
And remember  
The good times


	13. The Birthday

The small room was packed, at least more packed than it usually was. At least a dozen people crowded around the small round table, all staring at the white frosted cake hungrily. They were so close to her, too close to breath. It made Alice uncomfortable. There were too many people, and she hadn’t invited them. She wished she could stand up and leave, but the stern looks from her mother kept her rooted in place.

A woman reached over the table, her baggy sleeves coming way too close to the frosted cake. She pinched Alice’s cheek, laughing and smiling as if she wasn’t causing her niece pain. Alice forced a smile, like she always had to. The second the woman’s cold fingers loosened, Alice jerked her head backwards. No-one noticed, of course. She probably could’ve keeled over and died, only to be scolded for poor posture.

More food was being placed on the table now. Hot dishes of nachos and burgers. Everything was piled with cheese, and Alice felt this was a bad time to remind her mother that she was lactose-intolerant. 

“That doesn’t exist,” her mother would always say, “you just don’t like cheese. Stop being rude.” Stop being rude, her mother’s motto. Why live comfortably when you can make the others around you have to hide their distaste for you. Surround yourself with people who hate you, but don’t be rude, otherwise they’ll stop acting like they care about you. 

Adults were allowed to be rude, thought Alice as she heard one of her relatives groan about burgers. Had Alice done the same thing, it was unlikely she would be allowed to eat the burgers, or anything else for that matter. Being rude must be punished. Unless it was her brother, then it must be ignored, because punishing him might damage the pedestal that he placed their parents on. 

“Eat up, Alice,” said her mother, piling her daughter’s plate with nachos, topping it all off with extra cheese. Alice wanted to complain, wanted to say she wasn’t hungry, but heaven forbid she was ungrateful. There were people starving on the streets. Though not the streets they lived on. Starving people weren’t allowed in the suburbs. 

Alice poked her food with her fork, staring longingly out the window and into the sky. She wished something would come down from the sky and take her away. Or just create enough distraction so she could slip out of the dining room and hide in her books. 

There were more people coming in now. At least another six. Alice clenched her fists, trying to keep her leg from bouncing. There were so many people, crowding Alice on every side, circling her like a vulture and its prey. They wanted her to slip up, to make a mistake, so that she would be punished and yelled at, so they could laugh. Alice pushed the thoughts down, so that they would stay with her anger. Just put it in a box, Alice told herself. Like Pandora’s box. But never let it open.

She started to eat her food, hoping that her mother was too engrossed in conversing with her family to notice she was avoiding the cheese. It was so loud. So many people talking and laughing, probably at her.

“Look how much you’ve grown!” exclaimed an Aunt as she grabbed a plate of food. Alice forced a smile but said nothing. Instead, she concentrated on the music playing in the back of her mind, making it louder and louder until it blocked out the party and the thoughts she didn’t want to have. She kept her hands holding tightly to her cutlery, trying to avoid scratching at the newly formed scabs on her wrist. They would scar if she did that, she thought to herself, if they did that, someone could see. 

It took so long, but eventually, dinner plates started to clear and the loud, obnoxious chatter began to quieten. Alice let out a quiet breath, keeping it steady, concentrating on nothing else. She looked up from her plate and saw her mother’s smile, heard her screachy laugh, and took another deep breath. 

“Who’s ready for some cake?” asked her mother, not waiting for a reply before cutting a piece for everyone. Alice didn’t want any. She felt sick. 

“No thank you,” she said quietly when her mother offered her a plate. The motherly smile dropped immediately. “I just feel sick,” Alice said, staring at the tablecloth, trying to avoid her mother’s gaze.

“There are people starving on the streets, and you’re here rejecting perfectly good food?” she said. Alice could sense the simmering rage. She was going to get more than an earful later. Perhaps she would take away her music this time. Maybe she would break her vinyls, or snap her CDs. 

Alice could feel her own rage coming to the surface. She pushed it down, but the thought of losing her music meant it was uncontrollable.

“If there are so many starving people, why don’t you try and feed them? I don’t see how I’m making it worse.” The second the words left her mouth, she regretted it. She had crossed the line, taken it a step too far.

“Out,” said her mother quietly. Alice was terrified. Her mother sounded so calm, so angry. “OUT!” she roared. “Get out of my house!” 

Alice fled from the table, heading for her room where she had her stuff stashed. Under her bed was a backpack filled with all the essentials. Next to her record collection was a ‘decorative’ suitcase that would keep them safe. She grabbed some stuffed toys for good measure and walked out the front door, backpack on, suitcase in hand, tears streaming down her face. 

“Where are you going?” came her mother’s voice.

“Out,” Alice said. She hoped her voice was more confident than she was feeling. 

“What do you mean ‘out’? You can’t leave. You’re seventeen.”

“No I’m not. Or did you forget that it was my birthday we were celebrating? Goodbye Mother. Don’t come looking.” Alice turned on her heel and walked out of the door, out of her mother’s control. The second she stepped onto the deserted street, a weight lifted off her shoulders. She was free.

She pulled out her phone, knowing she had only minutes before her mother disabled her sim.

“I’m out,” she said to her friend. Alice could almost hear their smile.

“Well then,” came their reply, “it’s time for you to come home.” Alice hung up and started walking, heading for the apartment building a few streets away. 

A few minutes later, she was standing in her new flat with her best friend. She would never have to see her mother again.

  
  
  
  



	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Self-harm, suicidal thoughts

Oh, the soft embrace!  
A place to escape to  
When it all becomes too much  
Always an option  
Waiting for me to crack  
Maybe one day

When times are rough you  
Call to me  
You want me  
To join the others in your darkness  
I want to come  
Just as others have before me

Dying is like  
Ending everything  
There is no coming back  
Blood  
Knives  
Sadness  
You comfort, but never mean it  
You exist to serve yourself

When I’m having a good day  
You disappear  
But the option always arises  
Late at night  
With no one to tell me no

It brings tears to my eyes  
The thought of leaving  
Should I fall asleep  
Never to wake up?


End file.
